Satin in A Coffin
by KenderickBlazey
Summary: On surface level, Arthur Kirkland seems ordinary. He seems happy and sensible and... Well, normal. But, as he begins to yearn the end for his solitude, he runs into conflict as to whom to trust, and who was the one to steal his heart. Highschool AU. Includes both USUK and FRUK, but one will ultimately win in the end.


He wasn't popular, no.

He would never be popular.

But, he was content with that. Such superficiality in such fame was beyond him and his desires, rendering him finding it a trivial thing.

And yet, he wasn't alone enough.

Arthur glanced over the deserted corridor, jade eyes wide with apprehension as he scrutinised the space before him and snuck in. Swift as a fox, he darted into the room, suddenly on his tiptoes. He took an inhale, and opened a thick, mahogany door as a small smile ghosted over his features while he found his thoughts deep in reminiscence of a certain line from the recent 'Hunger Games' movie.

Mahogany was indeed expensive and nice, but he preferred the Hawthorn. It reminded him more of home.

Upon the very second he creaked the door open, a blast of air hit him. Not fresh air, quite the opposite. That fragrant odour of a standard bibliotheque, the musky books. He liked it. It smelt like knowledge.

His footsteps became muffled as he paced across a carpet which was long worn down from frequent use and abuse since what he figured was the sixties. Straightening his tie a little, as it was beginning to hang a little low, he snuck his way through the various, assorted shelves, eyes scanning various books and names and details. He placed his bag down and zipped the rucksack open to fetch his reading book, only to look around once more.

Endless. Glorious.

An empire of awareness and information. That's what this crappy high-school library was to him.

But it was his empire.

That's why he kept coming back here. Because it was his. He didn't have many other things that belonged to him. His possessions were hand-me-downs from years before, and if he didn't need it, Peter would be next in line to inherit the throne of shit that had never been fashionable and most likely never would be.

But, for a teenager, Arthur was practical. He had the intelligence to know that he wouldn't change that for a while, especially through rebellion which had long since been beaten out of him. So, he had to make-do.

Whatever he got, he treasured. He lacked a trust for other people. Not significantly, so that it'd worry anyone. But, he wasn't the type to lend you a pencil before a test in fear that you'd return it chewed up.

And this library was also his.

Okay, not fully _his_, per-se, but he felt as if he claimed this position. Nobody else ever came here to read. Hell, about a third of the school wouldn't have known of its existence without having to be summoned to the place to catalogue and pick up their text books. Regardless, it was his escape.

And perhaps, he found simple relief in calling it that.

As, odd as it sounded, Arthur Kirkland longed to be lost.

He desired, craved and wanted to become lost somewhere so much that he'd never be found. He found delicious simplicity and peace of mind being alone, which as we already mentioned, he was hardly ever alone enough.

The problem with getting lost in the real world was that people often enjoyed meddling and would become worried if he went missing.

So, his escape was through fiction. He didn't play cricket during breaktime with the other boys, nor did he go on the computers in the I.T. room. He didn't attend any clubs, or play many sports aside from the occasional game of football when the mood was right.

He wasn't disliked or overlooked.

He just chose to avoid the rest.

Currently, he was making his way through the six chapters of 'Of Mice and Men'. He wasn't too fond of American authors, finding the recent rise of the so-called 'popular' John Green novels too surface level and simplistic, but something about Steinbeck's work in this case in particular lured him in.

He had just begun, so he wasn't too far in, however...

A part stuck out to him.

_ "Guys like us, that work on ranches, are the loneliest guys in the world. They got no family. They don't belong no place...With us it ain't like that. We got a future. We got somebody to talk to that gives a damn about us." _

Arthur sighed.

As much as he loved being alone, he didn't particularly find pleasure in being lonely.

Suddenly, he jolted out of his seat as he felt someone behind him. So shocked, even, that he dropped the book as he twisted around to face the person behind him.

"Salut!"

**(TBC...)**

**A/N:...**

**What am I doing?**

**This seems interesting to jot down. There is a plot. Don't worry.**

**Please 'Read and Review'! I'd love to hear what you think!**


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